The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

within Coronnan. I hope the Stargods punish you appropriately.”
    Lady Lynnetta’s reputation for sweetness might have won her the respect of the court, but Ariiell suspected no one had ever heard her speak with so much malice.
    The idiot continued to smile and laugh and drool, taking pleasure from helping the servants unpack.
    Ariiell marched to the door in Andrall’s wake. She refused to remain in this room any longer.
    She’d keep Andrall from contacting King Darville. She had the magic at her fingertips. And when all was in place, she would release Rejiia from her prison in the small tower across the compound. Rejiia would be so grateful she’d give up her position in the center of the coven rituals.
    “Are you forgetting, Lord Andrall, that magic and magicians are still illegal in Coronnan? If you deliberately use magic to contact our king, you violate numerous laws and put King Darville in jeopardy of losing his crown,” she whispered to him in a malicious hiss at the foot of the tower stairs. She knew her words would carry up the stairwell to any of the avid listeners in their party.
    “By your own admission of ties to the coven, you make yourself and your child illegal as well.” Lord Andrall looked down his long patrician nose at her.
    “Have you ever seen me throw a spell, Lord Andrall? Do you have any evidence that I belong to the coven? Perhaps I merely used their name to invoke fear and obedience in a woman of an inferior race,” Ariiell replied sweetly. She hated following on his heels, pressing her arguments. He should stand respectfully still and hear her out.
    “The chaos your accusations cause cannot help anyone but the Gnostic Utilitarian cult. And they will hunt you down and torture you without mercy. You and any other followers of the coven they find.” Andrall turned his back on her again and proceeded into the courtyard.
    Ariiell refused to admit defeat. She stamped her foot angrily and followed closely.
    The magician named Robb and the older woman who seemed to be in charge stood by the wall conversing. Their rapidly waving hands and slightly hunched posture broadcast their anxiety.
    A veil of mist made them look like ghosts. Who was alive and who dead in this place? Another reason to leave as soon as possible.
    Ariiell studied them closely as she and Andrall came closer to them. She’d be able to think more clearly if this s’murghin’ mist didn’t cover everything.
    How could she use their upset to her own advantage? Robb was certainly ripe for loss of concentration if he tried a summons. And just who would receive the summons? Who in the king’s court had enough magic to be in constant communication with the Commune of Magicians?
    She intended to eavesdrop and find out. The Gnuls would pay handsomely for that information. The coven would also receive the news with delight. She must escape this horrible place—alone—before Andrall’s overblown sense of morality revealed her untimely admission. News of a magician in close contact with the king would set the Council of Provinces to depose Darville and put her child on the throne. Possibly before the birth!
    Lord Andrall stopped short, staring at the older woman beside Robb. She was handsome in an aging sort of way, but not worth this mouth-agape stare. Ariiell alone in this hodgepodge of captives should have invited such open admiration.
    Ariiell stamped her foot in frustration. Lord Andrall continued to utter incomprehensible choking sounds rather than come to the point of his mission. Ariiell needed Lord Andrall and Robb to discuss a summons to Darville so she could learn the name of the king’s magical confidant.
    “Wh . . . where . . . who . . . that amulet . . .” At last Andrall pointed to the rather clumsy and ugly jumble of silver and amethyst hanging around the woman’s neck.
    “This is mine.” Vareena immediately clasped the jewelry defensively.
    Robb put an arm around her shoulders in a touching display of affection. Disgusting!
    “Then . . . then that amulet can only be yours because you stole it,” Andrall spluttered. “What have you done to my brother? He would not have parted with that symbol of inheritance while he lived!” He reached to tear the amulet from her neck.
    Magical power tingled through Ariiell. Yes! This is what the coven had tried in vain to teach her. She could feed off strong emotions, drain people of power by absorbing all of their energy. She longed to let a spell, any spell,